


she's the prettiest girl at the party (and she can prove it with a solid right hook)

by dearg0d



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: F/M, The Losers Club, benverly appreciation, fluff !!!!!!!!, its just the tiniest bit angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-05-31 01:25:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15108887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dearg0d/pseuds/dearg0d
Summary: Ben can't figure out how to tell Beverly he's in love with her.Turns out, he's been doing it for the past four years.-(yes that title is a frnk iero song)





	she's the prettiest girl at the party (and she can prove it with a solid right hook)

**Author's Note:**

> honestly, this is just a lil cute story because i want people to cherish ben as much as me, I hope you enjoy n pls pls pls let me know what you think, and feel very very very free to check out my other works!!!

Ben had known that he was in love with Beverly for a very long time, maybe since they were thirteen and she first gave him attention, first made him feel something special, like he was more than just another nerdy fat kid with no hope. 

She made him brave, she made him hopeful, she made him feel strong. And then insisted that he had been all of those things before she mattered. Beverly was definitely right about that, Ben found that she was usually right about things. 

Ben didn't like to count the first time they kissed, down in the sewers in his absolutely wild attempt at waking her up. It had been an impulse decision, the best he'd ever made, even if the other losers did think it was questionable. He knew that they were only so shocked because it seemed to absurd to them, even more so because it actually worked. 

Ben wondered if he had a shot after that, the look in her eyes when Beverly realised the poem was from him, she looked at him like he was special, like nobody else mattered. And it made his heart absolutely melt. But then she had to leave. And then she went and kissed Bill.

He remembered how he felt when Bill talked about it, an absolutely aching disappointment in his gut. He wondered if the other losers saw it on his face, if the hope visibly drained from him every single time Bill recited his story, because for some fucking reason, the losers seemed to love hearing it. Ben did not, not even when he started to believe he was over Beverly. It was just a reminder to him that he wasn't like the rest of them. 

Ben Hanscom believed he was the ugly one. He believed he would never compare. He was the sidekick, the token fat kid. And he fucking hated it. 

But he didn't blame Beverly for wanting someone like Bill. Bill, who was beautiful beyond belief, tall and slim and confident despite his stutter. Bill, who had the courage to lead the fight and return to Neibolt. They all admired him, of course Beverly did too, in more ways than one. 

Another voice in Ben's mind told him that if it wasn't Bill that she had wanted, maybe it would have been someone else. Stan was just as stunning as Bill, and he was neat and intelligent and funny. Or Richie, who was boisterous and loud and funny. He wasn't so conventionally beautiful, but he was still unbelievably handsome, and puberty was working wonders for him. Plus, he had a charm capable of wooing just about anyone, Ben wouldn't have been surprised if Beverly had fallen for his antics too. They were very good friends. Eddie was adorable, but no longer in the childish way. He was growing up to be fucking God-like, regardless of his lacking height. Eddie was sweet and smart and focused, full of potential and energy and love. He would understand if Beverly wanted to fall in love with him instead. Then there was Mike, who was maybe the most stunning of all. He had a heart of gold too, and was kind beyond belief. Who would ever say no to someone like that? 

Except, Ben remembered, none of the other losers wanted her. They all adored her with their entire heart, no doubt, but they didn't see her romantically. Not like Ben or Bill. 

But it didn't matter, because she left anyway. And Ben tried to forget, he really did, but the writing made it hard, and the constant throb in his chest when Bill would go on and on about her. 

Sometimes Ben wondered if he would ever forget her, if he could ever truly be drained of adoration for someone so close to perfection. As fate would have had it, absolutely not.

Because Beverly came home. 

At first, Ben had panicked. He expected her to return and fall into Bill's arms, they'd be loves young dream and Ben would be forced to watch. 

But no, in the fall of 1990, when Beverly Marsh made her grand return to Derry, she did not give good old Bill Denbrough a second look. Ben remembered the day like it was yesterday, how she had met them all at the quarry, seeing them for the first time in over a year, and ran. But she wasn't running into the arms of their leader, nor was she running to Stan or Mike or Richie or Eddie. No, Beverly ran to Ben. 

And he held her like she was the most precious thing on the entire earth. To him, she was.

In that year of her absence, Ben had the most dramatic change of any of the losers. He still had a lot of that adorable puppy fat when she returned, but he beginning to grow out of it. His mother insisted it came with age, but Ben knew it was because he was eating better and exercising more. He wanted to look good for his girl. Not that he didn't already, but he wanted to feel it more, wanted to be more than just the token fat friend. To Beverly, he had always been more than that. 

Two years on from her return, life had been much kinder to Ben Hanscom. By some work of miracle, she was now his girlfriend. It felt too good to be true, and whenever she pressed her lips or her body to his own, he feared he would wake up and find he'd dreamt it all up - some sick emotional wet dream. During the course of their relationship, Ben continued to work on his appearance, not for Beverly (insecurity remained, but he knew she didn't care how he looked), or to shake off his fat kid title, but for himself. He wanted to love himself even more, and he was doing his best. 

Everyone else saw the beauty in him - beauty that had always been there. Only now, it was conventional. At seventeen, Ben was disgustingly handsome. He had what Beverly aways called a 'dad bod', and she adored it, he discovered that lots of people did, but Beverly was the one that got to enjoy it - forever pressing kisses down his chest or running her soft hands across the skin, whispering words of adoration. 

Despite her obvious and shameless affections for him, Ben still questioned her feelings. It stemmed from his own insecurity, not genuine doubt in her trust. They had never said the big three words, not explicitly. Ben had held it back several times, biting his lips to stop himself moaning it mid-orgasm, kissing her hair to stop it falling out late at night when they curled up into each others spaces, writing poems that said everything but. He was sure that until he heard it from her, Ben would doubt that she loved him truly. 

He knew he wanted to say it soon. He knew he couldn't hold it back much longer, and he didn't want to risk blurting it out at the wrong time and ruining a beautiful moment. To prevent that scenario, he decided to plan it. Of course, there was no way that the conversation could go exactly as Ben pictured it in his mind, Beverly wouldn't say the things she said in his mind, but that didn't matter, so long as the night bared some similarities - so long as it involved him confessing his undying adoration - he didn't mind. 

Ben was a hopeless romantic, and conventional at that. He loved taking Beverly on dates, he loved post-sex cuddling and walking around holding hands. He loved all cute cliches and all the stereotypical relationship stuff that came with it. So, he decided, after some discussion with Stan, that after prom was the best time to do it. 

"What if she doesn't say it back?" Ben asked Stan, almost shaking at the idea. "What if she doesn't love me?" 

"What if pigs fly, Ben?" Stanley had shot back, smiling at him softly. It was obvious, to anyone else, just how much Ben and Beverly adored each other. "Trust me, you have nothing to worry about." 

And he didn't, not in that respect. But as prom night crept up, he was still flooded with anxiety, still absolutely crushed by the feeling that something bad was going to happen, something was going to go wrong. Ben knew that it was probably nothing, probably just his nerves fucking with his head, but nothing helped him shake the fear. 

"Do I look okay?" Ben asked, looking himself up and down in Bill's mirror. They were all getting ready there, all but Bev, who was getting all prettied up by her Aunt. They were picking her up later, and Ben had a corsage to gift to her before they went in. He was wearing a classic black tuxedo complete with a green bowtie, all the losers had different colours. Bev's dress was going to be green. He hadn't seen it yet, but that was all she was willing to reveal. Bill had a blue one, Stan's was grey. Eddie's was purple (he refused pink, he outright refused) and Richie had insisted on a rainbow, declining every other colour because he wanted them all. Mike wasn't attending, because he was homeschooled, but they were forcing him to the after party at some randoms house (Ben couldn't remember who was throwing it, but Bill had been invited and told to bring friends), for which they were forcing him to wear an orange bowtie. He was secretly glad he didn't have to go to the actual thing, thinking he would hate all the fuss. 

"Handsome Hanscom," Bill said, beaming at him. Ben flushed red, grinning back. 

"Beverly's gonna be dripping-" Richie started to say, but his comment was cut off, rightfully. 

"You're disgusting," Stan snapped, shaking his head. "You look great, Ben. You all do." 

"I hope you're not coming onto me, Staniel," Richie shot back with a wink. Stan mimed gagging, and Bill laughed, a little too loud. "I do look dashing though." 

"Are you-" Stan's eyes dashed up and down Richie, confused. Ben turned from the mirror, curious as to what he was looking at. 

"Skinny jeans?" Eddie spat, "We're going to prom, Rich, not a fucking Misfits concert-" 

"Just think yourselves lucky I took the chains off," Richie said, smirking. "My converse didn't match the tux, I had to." Ben laughed, but the conversation wasn't distracting him from what was really on his mind like he hoped it would have. 

"The bowtie is bad enough," Eddie sighed, twanging Richie's. Richie laughed and re-adjusted it. Naturally, he had to fuck up the colour scheme thing and go for a rainbow one. It had been a bitch to find, and the woman in the fancy dress store had detested his insistence on the thing. Probably because of what it symbolised more so than the effort she had to go to for it to arrive in time. 

"You love it Eds," Richie sneered, ruffling Eddie's hair. 

"My hair-" Eddie snapped, shoving him away, he was repressing a smirk though. Ben watched the scene silently, and took a seat on the edge of Bill's bed as the rest of the losers finished up getting ready. Bill was fussing over a zit on his forehead, Stan insisting that nobody could see it because he refused to cut his fringe. Eddie and Richie were play fighting and shouting about Richie's disregard of the formal dress code. 

By the time they left, Ben was practically shaking with nerves. Stan gave him a small, encouraging smile as he walked up to the front door of Beverly's Aunt's apartment. The rest of them were waiting in their respective cars - they'd needed two, naturally. He rang the doorbell, corsage in hand, a small smile fixed on his face. 

The door opened, and the smile fell. The look of anxiety and joy quickly changed to awe when he saw her. His girlfriend, whom he thought to be the love of his life. Beverly looked breathtaking. It made his mouth dry, a lump in his throat grew and his stomach filled with butterflies. He wanted to tell her, he wanted to write a thousand poems about how stunning she looked, wanted to scream it everywhere he went, buy a fucking billboard announcing it - but he couldn't even form words in his head that accurately described how utterly shaken he was by her. 

"Hello," She said, smiling sweetly. Bev could read him like a book, and stood smiling as he looked her up and down, nothing but love in his eyes. She didn't think that she looked anything much, but she felt quite pretty, and it was a nice change from her usual casual aesthetic. For prom, Beverly had bought a simple green, strapless maxi dress. It was silk, and clung to her body elegantly. She had a lot of makeup on, a lot more than usual at least, and it didn't make her any more beautiful, just beautiful in a way that Ben had never seen before. Feminine and classy. She pulled it off well. 

"You look..." Ben couldn't decide on one set word. There weren't enough. "Wow." She laughed at that, a full belly-laugh. 

"You look kind of wow too," She said, still chuckling. He held out the corsage and she held out her wrist, it slid on with ease. "Pretty. Thank you." 

"My mom insisted," He told her, smiling. "Not that I didn't want to but she-I mean, I uh-" 

"Don't dig yourself a hole," Bev cut in, shaking her head at him fondly, "Remind me to thank your mom. Now come on, don't want to keep everyone waiting. You can tell me how utterly perfect I look later, when we're actually alone-" She motioned to her Aunt, who was stood behind a doorframe at the end of the hallway. Ben smiled and waved at her, she waved back and then shuffled out of sight. Her Aunt was nice enough, a quiet lady who left Beverly to her own devices. Anyone was better than her Father, Ben supposed. 

The drive to prom was smooth enough, as was the first half hour there. Bill and Stanley disappeared. Eddie and Richie looked like they wanted to. Ben and Bev milled around awkwardly, small talking with people who had barely acknowledged their existence throughout high school. It was okay at first, people were being friendly, at first. 

The room went silent about two hours in, as their headteacher walked onto the stage with a wide grin on face and an envelope in hand. Everyone knew what was coming, and the energy in the room went tense. It was the announcement for prom king and queen, so naturally, people were beyond enthusiastic. Ben hadn't put much thought into it - none of the losers had. They all knew none of them stood a chance, and they didn't give a shit either way. All except Eddie, who had been on the committee for prom, and had insisted on entering all of their names. It still didn't matter though, because the rest of the losers knew nobody would vote for them. 

It was the same shit every year, the most popular and conventionally beautiful couple won, had a romantic dance, and then everyone else forgot about it in the next twenty minutes. Ben couldn't wait for the announcement to be over with so he could continue his discussion on poetry with his English teacher. He found himself looking around for Beverly though, but couldn't see in her anywhere in the crowd. Ben didn't dwell, simply assuming she'd snuck for a cigarette with Richie. 

The teacher gave some long winded and irrelevant speech about pride and setting examples and growing up, all the classic bullshit that none of them wanted to hear about, before bothering to get onto the announcements. The energy in the room became much more tense as the quiet whisperings stopped and every face was fixated on the two crowns in the middle of the stage. Ben wished he could share the same enthusiasm that everyone else seemed to, but it wasn't his thing - he wasn't born to be a king of any kind in his mind. 

"Your Senior Prom King is..." The pause was painfully and stupidly long. _"William Denbrough."_

Ben found himself laughing, and looked around to see if any of his other friends were. He spotted Stan, who looked more confused than amused. Their names had all been put in the ballot as a joke - not one of the losers expected anybody to vote for them. Then again, if any of the losers were going to get votes, it would be Bill. He had grown into a conventionally attractive guy, it was no secret that a lot of the girls in their grade admired him. And one or two of the boys, most namely Stan, who wrongly believed he was good at keeping his crush subtle and low key. It was depressingly obvious, but Ben was uncertain about how unrequited it was. 

Bill looked utterly humiliated walking onto the stage, head bowed low and eyes to the floor. The crown was placed on his head, and he forced a smile and nod - refusing to even attempt a speech of any kind. People were applauding, and a couple of people wolf-whistled (Ben was almost positive that was Richie), but the display was almost too cringey for Ben to watch. It made him more eager to learn who would win prom queen though, hoping it was someone they could mock him for dancing with, or maybe someone beautiful who'd boost his confidence a little. But no. It was neither end of the spectrum. 

"And your Senior Prom Queen crown goes to _Miss Beverly Marsh."_

Ben felt himself zone out. There was applause coming from every direction, but it was almost white noise to him as he watched her climb onto the stage, grinning with pride. Her eyes were searching for him, but he was at the back - far out of sight and glad of it. He didn't want her to see the disappointment on his face in that moment. 

It wasn't because he thought she didn't deserve it - hell, that girl deserved it above every other in their entire town. It wasn't even because he thought they could have voted her for a joke, that was too stupid to be true. It only hurt because he wasn't up there with her, and to Ben, that was just another example of nobody else believing her deserved her. The insecurities weren't just in the back of his mind, they weren't silently creeping into his darker thoughts, they were out and shining, screaming in his face that they were the truth - because not only did he fail to win - he lost to _Bill._

And now he was going to have to watch them dance. His girlfriend had to dance with one of his best friends, because their peers didn't believe Ben was good enough to dance with her alone. Because Bill was better than him. Because Bill was never fat, because he was tall and skinny and adored. And Ben didn't think he was any of those things. And Bev, according to everyone else, deserved those things. It made his stomach twist, but not with pathetic jealousy, just with disappointment. It was hollowing, and took over the pride he felt for her deep down.

Beverly also skipped out on the speech, instead taking Bill's hand and leading him off stage. A circle formed in the middle, and Ben found himself wandering over, something he felt was more of an obligation than anything else. And he watched them dance, pleading with his heart to not let the crippling jealously get to him. He knew it was stupid, he knew it was irrational - if Beverly wanted Bill she could've had him a long time ago - she had chosen Ben. But it wasn't about Beverly, it was more about everyone else. Because people were looking at them with despicable awe, and Ben knew that they were _all_ wondering why she and Bill weren't together, looking at the two as people look on protagonists in stupid romance movies, thinking they were meant to be. Because Bill was good enough for someone as beautiful as Beverly, but Ben - chubby, silly, nerdy Ben, was not. Not in his mind, at least, not in that moment. 

"Aren't they just perfect?" Ben didn't know who's voice it belonged to, but it made his stomach twist despite that. 

Ben watched for as long as he could, and then bolted as soon as he saw the look of fondness on Beverly's face, a look that he had always thought was reserved for him and him alone. But it wasn't. And he was okay with that, sometimes, because he knew how much Bev loved her friends, and his own adoration for the losers matched that, but in that state of insecurity he simply couldn't bare it. So he left. 

He didn't go far, simply venturing outside and sitting on the steps outside the front doors, feeling an embarrassing amount of self-pity. He hated that it bothered him so much, mostly because he knew it shouldn't, and it never had before. It was supposed to be their special night though, he had planned and prepared to pour his heart and soul out to her, and spent the entire night praying that his opportunity would come sooner. Bill had danced with her first though, and something about that bothered him deeply. It all stemmed from insecurity, and he was self-aware enough to know as much, but that changed nothing. 

Ben didn't know how long he had been sat there, ten minutes tops, he would have guessed, but it was long enough alone for him to wonder if anybody had noticed his lack of presence. Stanley had, evidently, because Stanley came outside, silently sat beside him and put a comforting hand on his arm as Ben's gaze remained fixed on the dark sky above. 

"Don't overthink it, Ben," Stanley said, understanding clear in his voice. Ben couldn't form a response, too scared of his voice cracking. He had been so afraid all night, and now, even more so. He thought that was the upsetting part, above anything. The fear just wouldn't leave him. "Bill doesn't love her like that." 

"You sound so sure," Ben mumbled, sighing and sitting up straighter. The fear wasn't really about Bill though, he knew that Bill didn't love her like that. He knew, really, that Beverly didn't love Bill like that. But four years ago when Bill had spoken of nothing but their kiss, he had believed otherwise. And tonight, after seeing such an affectionate display, the feeling his thirteen year old self had lived with had returned. It was just a little overwhelming. "How does anyone not love her like that? She's..." There wasn't a word to summarise everything that Beverly Marsh was. Ben didn't need a word though, and Stanley understood. 

"I'm certain," Stan confirmed, smiling softly. Ben forced himself to return the grin, half-heartedly. "Did you tell her yet?" 

"No," Ben huffed. "Have you told him yet?" Stanley's face dropped, a look of something close to shame washing over him. 

"I can't," Stan said, "You know I can't. He...I don't think he loves me like that either. But it's not her. Whoever it is, it's not her, Ben. And she definitely doesn't see him like that, I know that you know that, it's just hard when-" 

"When everyone is stood wondering why on earth not," Ben finished for him. Stanley nodded. Ben wondered how he felt, watching Bill dance with Bev like that. Watching Bill get crowned. Watching Bill blast through life with no regard to Stan's feelings towards him, whilst girls fawned over him every time he walked into a room. Ben felt another wave of pity for Stan, so much so that he felt pathetic for even doubting Beverly. At least he was with the person he loved, Stan wasn't so lucky. Ben did think, that he was far too pessimistic about the possibility of Bill returning the affection, but he supposed it was easy that way. It saved disappointment, at least. "You should tell him before you leave." 

"And lose him?" Stanley scoffed, "No fucking way." 

"He wouldn't..." Ben didn't know where he was going with that sentence. He couldn't make any promises about what Bill's reaction would be. Richie always insisted Bill was as straight as a pole, and Bill had never given anyone solid reason to believe otherwise. Stanley had to be cautious, more so than he did. "I'll tell her." 

"Tell me how it feels when she says it back." Stan's voice was small, tiny even. 

"What if she doesn't?" Ben asked, the nerves returning once again. He didn't recall them ever leaving, but they were more prominent now, much harder to just ignore. 

"Don't taunt yourself with the impossible," Stanley said, "Trust me, don't even bother. You know she-" Wherever Stan was going with that question, he never got. Eddie burst through the door before he could get the words out. "Woah, Eddie-" 

"Ben Hanscom get your girl _under control now_ " Eddie yelled. "Inside, now!" They wasted no time, too curious and afraid to even bother questioning Eddie in that moment. He cared too much about prom to waste time explaining anyway, he just wanted to commotion to stop, and knew that Ben was the only person capable of reigning her in when she went off. Ben could tell that was what was happening just from his phrasing, but was beyond confused as to what may have set her off. He resented it too, the idea of her being angry on prom night, on the night he hoped to tell her that he was in love with her. It really killed the mood. 

"What the fuck-" They were back in the room before his question got answered, not than an answer was needed. The situation was, for the most part, self explanatory. A large group of people were crowding Bev, and a girl who's name Ben didn't care to remember. She was pretty and blonde and stood with iron fists clenched, yelling at Bev with venom. Ben knew nothing about her, just that she was one of the popular girls who he knew disliked the losers. That hatred stemmed from Bill rejecting her in sophomore year, but still, she had always passed them evil stares if they walked past her in the hallway. 

"Get off your high horse you narcissistic _bitch_ ," Beverly spat back, and Ben rushed forward. He didn't want her to get into trouble, and knew from experience that when trouble kicked off, the losers were forever the scapegoats. "I got voted, you didn't. You can have the stupid crown if it means that much to you-" 

"You didn't deserve it anyway," The girl spat back, "You're a freak! I don't know who the fuck voted for you, maybe it was some sick fucking joke, I don't know, but you and your-" Ben wanted to intervene, he really did. Bev was strong though, so strong. She didn't need him to fight her battles, didn't need him to step in. He just didn't want her to get in trouble but- "Your pig-looking boyfriend-" 

Beverly punched the nameless bitch, a right hook so hard that she flew to the floor. 

"Speak about my boy like that again and I'll-" Enough was enough. It was Richie who decided that though, as much as he was living for the show, he knew the line. Beverly was going to get into a deep pile of trouble if she didn't stop. Ben was too stunned to do anything, too blown away by how violently she had rushed to his defence. 

"Outside-" Richie said, but he was laughing as he dragged her away. Ben stood frozen for a second before his brain managed to get him to follow, stumbling behind them in a state of absolute shock and adoration. He was glad he didn't intervene. "Don't get me wrong dear, that's the best thing I've ever seen, but you can't get yourself into trouble like that, they're gonna send a witch hunt for you-" 

"I don't care," Beverly spat, brushing herself off. She caught Ben's eye as she looked up, and shot him a smile that radiated all the love in the world. She held his gaze as she spoke. "Nobody talks about my boy like that." 

"And they say romance is dead," Stanley said, a phrase he usually used in the most sarcastic tone possible, was now undoubtedly serious. "I hope she has a black eye." 

"I hope she rots," Beverly muttered. Richie handed her a cigarette and she pulled a lighter from down her dress, sparking it with an impressive efficiency. "I always hated her anyway. I always hated this bullshit anyway. Why did I win prom queen? What bullshit is that?" 

"Because you're the prettiest girl at the party," Ben said, quietly. She blew him a kiss, smoke out with it. 

"And you just proved it with a solid right hook," Richie chimed. He shook his head at her, but he was smiling. "Someone should check she's alright. Must be a big bruise to her ego." 

"I'll go," Eddie huffed, marching off before anyone could protest. Richie followed him, and Stan, being the only loser left outside, nodded at Ben and Bev before running back inside too. Bev and Ben didn't particularly care about the aftermath. 

Bev sat down on the steps, and Ben placed himself beside her. He knew it was the right time. He knew it was the perfect moment. Any doubt, any fear, any insecurity was gone, and the feeling was better than he ever allowed himself to imagine. "You deserved prom queen." 

"I don't know," Beverly mumbled, clearly overwhelmed by it all. There were tears in her eyes, but Ben didn't think it was the right time to start wiping those away. She didn't need him to do that for her. "It's all bullshit. Half the girls there deserved it. I didn't do anything to deserve it. I didn't do anything to deserve _you."_

"Your pig-looking boyfriend, huh?" Ben was half-joking. Beverly wasn't, her face dead straight and eyes filled with something Ben couldn't quite read. "You didn't have to defend me like that, Bev. But I appreciate it, I-I...I appreciate you." She laughed at that, laughed out loud. 

"You appreciate me?" She asked, amusement seeping into her tone. He nodded. "Wow, Ben, I'm honoured." He laughed at that, and they both found themselves chuckling, not even because it was funny (it wasn't, really) but because it eased the tension, because it felt better than being sat in an uncomfortable state of uncertainty. Laughter made it more relaxed, made it more acceptable. 

"You didn't say it back!" Ben mock-gasped. She laughed harder, and stubbed the half smoked cigarette out on the concrete beside her. Her giggling slowed, then halted. She looked at him with a fondness, a fondness much more vibrant than that she gazed at Bill with. 

"I don't appreciate you," Her voice was small, "I don't even want you, Ben." There was a pause, and Ben didn't know whether his heart had shattered or whether he was having some awful nightmare, but then Beverly kissed him, and the joy took back over. It wasn't a heated kiss, not like the ones they shared in the privacy of a bedroom or occasionally a bathroom. It was wholesome and passionate, loving and soft. The kind of kiss they both ached for when they were laying alone late on a night and early in a morning. 

"Huh?" Ben mumbled, as Bev pulled away. He was confused, to say the least. Bev was holding his face though, smiling at him like he was the source of all joy. To her, sometimes, he was. 

"I don't appreciate you," She said, "I _love_ you. I don't want you, Ben, I _need_ you-" He was kissing her again before she could even finish the sentence, and pulled away only a second later with tear filled eyes. 

"I'm so in love with you, Beverly Marsh," He whispered. She giggled, and the sound was music to his soul. 

"Glad the feelings mutual," She replied, giving him another small kiss. "I'm surprised you didn't write a poem about it-" He giggled, sweet laughter silencing her as she joined in. 

"I've written thousands of poems about it," He confessed, expecting to feel his face heat up. It didn't though, the awe on Beverly's face washing away any embarrassment. "Been writing them since I was thirteen." 

"January embers," Beverly said. He nodded, then kissed her again. They would've happily stayed, wrapped up in each other all night, but of course, staying outside for any longer than five minutes alone was proving impossible, and the sound of the door swinging open brought them back apart. 

"Come on losers," Richie said, "There's a party going on, save the romantics for later Hanscom!" He was joking, entirely. But boy, did Hanscom save the romantics. 

It turned out to be a wonderful night, for more reasons than one, maybe the best of his life. Ben didn't know if he would ever feel such an overwhelming adoration for someone ever again, but he hoped not, because he didn't want to imagine a future with anyone but his Bev. His heart burned there. He knew it always would. 


End file.
